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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30102603">but you're holding me (like water in your hands)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/potterthepoltergeist/pseuds/potterthepoltergeist'>potterthepoltergeist</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It, Gen, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Newt Lives (Maze Runner), Safe Haven, The Death Cure Spoilers, They're In Love Your Honor, haha canon who, never heard of her</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:15:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,438</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30102603</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/potterthepoltergeist/pseuds/potterthepoltergeist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"We're going to make it out of this," Thomas murmured as he held on to the last bit of resolve left in his bones. He would use it all up, for Newt, right now. "You and me, okay?"</p><p>Or, Thomas and Newt discover all the ways you can fall irreparably in love (and still live in a constant state of denial).</p><p>title from "moon song" by phoebe bridgers.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Brenda &amp; Thomas (Maze Runner), Minho &amp; Newt &amp; Thomas (Maze Runner), Newt/Thomas (Maze Runner)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. thomas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>cw: mentions of blood, guns, and death</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thomas’s world was falling apart.</p><p>In a literal sense, the Last City was crumbling around him. Ash sifted down and coated the once pale concrete with black. Debris was scattered through the streets as commonplace as everyday litter. Buildings along one side of the walls had collapsed into each other like dominoes. Explosions painted the sky fiery orange and smoky charcoal. The sound of gunfire and screaming and war cries rang in Thomas’s ears.</p><p>But in a figurative, metaphorical sense, Thomas’s world was also falling apart because Newt was coughing up black blood against a charred metal planter, and it seemed more and more like the bitter end. And Thomas couldn’t breathe, and he wasn’t entirely sure if that was because the city was on fire or because of the boy in front of him. Falling apart.</p><p>“Tommy-“</p><p>Shit, the nickname only made everything worse. “Tommy, I-“</p><p>“It’s okay,” Thomas whispered, gripping Newt’s collar tightly in his fist, like letting go would mean letting Newt go. “Shh, you just gotta hold on, just- you’re gonna be okay, I promise, I won’t-“</p><p>“You have to kill m-“</p><p>“No!” he shouted, and he didn't bother acknowledging the way his voice broke at the end. Newt took another shuddering breath as Thomas regained a fraction of his composure. “I’m not gonna do that.”</p><p>“But-“</p><p>He sounded too weak. “No, Newt, listen, Minho and Gally, right? They’re gonna get the serum, right, and we can meet them halfway, but you just gotta keep going, Newt, okay? But I’m not gonna leave you. I'm not doing that, that’s not- no.” Thomas knew he was rambling, but the words were for himself just as much as they were for Newt.</p><p>Because Newt had dark veins curling around his jaw like skeletal fingers, and all the deep, dark brown color in his eyes had been replaced with infinite black, and god, Thomas couldn't tell which of them was going more insane.</p><p>"Okay, here, if you- I'll help you stand, and we can start-"</p><p>"Tommy-"</p><p>"<em>What? </em>"</p><p>Newt's whole body trembled with the effort, but he ripped a thin cord from around his neck and shoved it towards Thomas. "<em>Take it</em>."</p><p>"Newt-"</p><p>"No, just take it!" His voice sounded gravelly with the Changing. The blackness in his eyes had blown out completely, sucking away the little white that was left. "<em>Take </em>it!"</p><p>They stared at each other for a long, harsh second. Thomas wanted to scream. "I can't-"</p><p>"Please, Tommy," Newt breathed, rapidly slipping in and out of himself. The metal cylinder at the end of the necklace was burning holes in their clasped hands. "Please."</p><p>Deep, dark brown returned for a fraction of an instant. If Thomas closed his eyes, he could pretend it would stay forever.</p><p>He really, really, wanted to pretend.</p><p>But Thomas exhaled shakily instead and focused on the feel of concrete under his knees and the way Newt's eyelashes fluttered when he blinked once. Twice. The brown disappeared again, helpless.</p><p>"Okay."</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>It was impossible to tell how long they sat there.</p><p>It would feel like barely a minute had passed, then Newt would fall into another coughing fit, and suddenly, ten years crept by. But Newt sure as hell couldn't walk in this state, not on that leg, and Thomas was afraid to try it himself because he already felt like collapsing, and they hadn't even left the ground.</p><p>The weight of Newt's necklace in his palm was still present and heavier than a boulder.</p><p>Every explosion set another spike in their adrenaline. Every shooting match sounded closer and closer to their (incredibly exposed) location. Every breath Newt took grew raspier as it fanned across Thomas's face. He pressed their foreheads together, hands finding a desperate place on the nape of the other's neck. A single bead of black liquid trailed from the corner of his lip. Shit.</p><p>"We're going to make it out of this," Thomas murmured as he held on to the last bit of resolve left in his bones. He would use it all up, for Newt, right now. "You and me, okay?"</p><p>The coughing was growing steadily worse. "Tommy-"</p><p>"<em>Okay? </em>"</p><p>"Tommy, I can't- I'm losing<em> - </em>"</p><p>"I'm right here, I'm right here." He tucked the necklace away in his jeans pocket for the moment and pressed the palms of their trembling hands together. "Can you feel me?"</p><p>Newt gave a tiny jerk of his head that could have been a nod or just a twitch of the Flare. Thomas took it as a nod.</p><p>The blood in his mouth had doubled, and shadowed veins snaked around his eyes like ivy, now. Memories of the Maze came flashing back. Newt's bad leg spasmed like it remembered ivy, too.</p><p>Another building toppled in the distance with a deafening crash.</p><p> </p><p>+</p><p> </p><p>Thomas's radio hadn't crackled with static for far too long, no matter how much he yelled into it. Newt was openly groaning now, head lolling back against the metal and eyes drooping half-closed. His entire body convulsed. Their hands fell away from each other, and Thomas's panic returned with a whole new level of intensity.</p><p>Newt blinked again, but the black in his eyes didn't waver this time. "You- you have to k-"</p><p>"No."</p><p>That decision was the only one he'd been entirely confident about in a while.</p><p>Seconds ticked by, stretching into even longer minutes they didn't have. Thomas was shouting himself hoarse with the walkie, and the gunfire was, somehow, <em>still </em>ringing in his ears, and Newt coughed for the billionth time, and they were so utterly fucked it wasn't even-</p><p>"<em>Thomas!</em>"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>oh my gosh it's a ~cliffhanger~<br/>,<br/>i almost couldn't finish this chapter because it was just,, too painful</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. thomas</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>previously:</p><p>Seconds ticked by, stretching into even longer minutes they didn't have. Thomas was shouting himself hoarse with the walkie, and the gunfire was, somehow, still ringing in his ears, and Newt coughed for the billionth time, and they were so utterly fucked it wasn't even-</p><p>"Thomas!"</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>cw: mentions of blood, death, needles / syringes, insanity, brief mention of throwing up</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The voice was familiar. Familiar in a way that sent alarms blaring through Thomas's head. He turned.</p><p>Teresa stood less than a storefront away. Her disheveled hair and coat were tinged gray with smoke. As she waved away ash, Thomas could see the strap of a bag crossing between the lapels. Her eyes pierced through his, the blue highlighted by flashing security car beacons and scattered fires.</p><p>He could only watch from the ground, dumbfounded.</p><p>From the corner of his eye, Newt tilted his head towards the trespasser.</p><p>"I saw Minho, so-" Teresa hurried down the sidewalk and was, suddenly, standing right above them. "I thought you'd already-"</p><p>Thomas shook his head to cut her off. "I'm not doing this right now."</p><p>"If you could-"</p><p>"No."</p><p>The only sounds were those of the falling city and Newt's coughs.</p><p>Teresa stared at Thomas in the same way she always did every time they were at a crossroads. All wide, fragile eyes and ever-so-slightly open mouth, with a solid stance, the strangest juxtaposition of vulnerable defiance. He supposed it was her trademark by now. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important."</p><p>"Sure."</p><p>"I wouldn't."</p><p>Her fingers twitched around the bag strap as though they were itching to take it off. "Let me explain, at least," she murmured, too pleading in contrast to her once snappish tone, a touch sorry - dangerously so.</p><p>Memories of the Scorch flooded Thomas again.</p><p>Memories of a rocky cliff and bracing gusts of wind that blew Teresa's hair in her face like a veil. Of two bergs silhouetted before an unsettlingly peaceful sunset and bursts of yellow and orange climbing over the skyline.</p><p>Those memories echoed in the riot around them.</p><p>He set his jaw and turned his face away from Newt's broken body. "What?"</p><p>Teresa gripped the strap tighter as she took yet another step towards them - too close for comfort. And her face was the picture of pity - only it was impossible to tell whether or not it was a mask. "He looks terrible."</p><p>
  <em> Yes, he does. </em>
</p><p>Newt's bad leg trembled.</p><p>"I can-" she took a deep breath. "Thomas, I can-"</p><p>"If you're about to tell me you found it, you can save it," he muttered. "Minho's coming with the serum now."</p><p>Teresa kneeled down on the cracked concrete across from him, ignoring the way both of Newt's legs began to spasm. Her eyes flashed with something Thomas resented. "You don't understand. That's not- none of that is permanent. But Thomas, there's a reason why Brenda doesn't need serum anymore. It's your blood. It destroys the virus for good, just like with Brenda, I promise."</p><p>"Your promise doesn't mean shit," he said, voice rising. "I told you, there's no real cure." Thomas's eyes landed on the radio, thoughts muffling Newt's shallow gasps. They should've been here by now, they should've- <em>none </em>of this should've-</p><p>"How would you feel?" Teresa tried, leaning forward. "How would you feel if you let him... Thomas, you can save him right now. You could save everybody, if you just-"</p><p>"You don't get to do that."</p><p>"I'm telling you, Newt is-"</p><p>"No, you don't get to do that," Thomas said tightly. His fist clenched. "You don't get to use him like that." Even as he spoke, Newt made a strangled noise and clutched his stomach.</p><p>Teresa shifted her coat. A medical bag peeked out tauntingly from underneath, stamped with WCKD's logo. "It's all here. Everything else I would need. I just have to draw some blood."</p><p>Another siren went off, both in the dying city and Thomas's brain. "Here?" he asked with more than a hint of accusation in his tone. "Or back there, in a lab?"</p><p>"Here."</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"Why what?"</p><p>"Why would you do it?"</p><p>Up until now, she'd held her stare. But for a moment, her resolve seemed to flicker. "He's- god, look at him."</p><p>"That's not it, you know it's not. You two were never close." Pointlessly, Thomas glanced at Newt for confirmation, only to find him slumping lower and lower onto the ground. "Why?"</p><p>Another tense beat passed. Teresa answered slowly, carefully, "This... this is a breakthrough, Thomas. A real chance. I can't just let it go."</p><p>"You said that with all the other kids."</p><p>"I didn't know what I know now."</p><p>"And he's just your experiment?" Thomas snapped, bile rising in his throat. He could feel the necklace in his pocket, a constant ache, and see the useless walkie cast aside: a broken promise. And the air felt hot and stuffy as cinders stung his face like tiny, white-hot bees.</p><p>More screams rang out from somewhere, blocks away, but they didn't flinch. Teresa pursed her lips and glanced around as though she was figuring out how best to artfully get her way, and the answer would be in an abandoned shopfront. "I saw the virus, Thomas. Under a microscope. And the enzymes in your blood- they completely destroyed it. It's like nothing I've ever seen."</p><p>In his periphery, Thomas caught Newt's eyes drooping, his lower lip trembling violently. "Don't."</p><p>"You have to believe me, Thomas."</p><p>"<em>Don't</em>, Tommy, she's not-"</p><p>A cough interrupted his words and spilled out more blood.</p><p>
  <em> You can save him right now. </em>
</p><p>To Teresa, he said, "You're out of your mind." Only it sounded much more uncertain than he'd intended. But she either didn't notice or didn't care, pressing forward with the same level of urgency as she had ten seconds ago and in Thomas's memories.</p><p>"Listen to me." She nearly ripped off the bag's flap when she tried to open it. Her shaky fingers pulled out a short glass syringe. "I could draw some blood from you right now, and Newt would be cured. For good. Take Brenda as proof." Teresa kept her eyes steadily trained on Thomas. Every syllable she uttered jumbled more thoughts in his head. "I know you don't trust me, but I need you to, if you want to save him."</p><p>Her words took their time registering in Thomas's brain. He could barely concentrate between the pounding in his ears and the groaning on his left and the shouting and burning and-</p><p><em> Because what would Teresa gain by lying? </em>one side of him argued - the side of him that desperately wanted to believe even the most untrustworthy of solutions. Of people. What was the point in faking a cure she needed to find, too? Why would she have come if she couldn't do anything?</p><p>She and Newt had never been good friends, and Thomas knew that. He knew that, he knew that, he knew that. She was only using this as a <em>test</em>. Because it always had to be a test. Everything always had to be some sort of ruthless, all-or-nothing- he knew, he knew, Thomas <em>knew</em>, but he couldn't help but <em>wonder</em>.</p><p>He wondered.</p><p>
  <em> You can't give up. I won't let you. </em>
</p><p>He let himself wonder because maybe if he let go one more time-</p><p>
  <em> Pick your ass up and finish what you've started. </em>
</p><p>-then Newt would be-</p><p>"Thomas, we're running out of time."</p><p>-fine.</p><p>"Thomas-"</p><p>"No, just- wait." Eyes wide and staring at the ground, he put his hands up in surrender as if they would slow the world down. They shook in time with his voice, in time with Newt's own shudders that grew more fractured by the instant. "Give me a second."</p><p>"But he's-"</p><p>"I'm not saying no, I'm just-" Thomas sighed. His head hurt. "I'm thinking." Everything hurt.</p><p>She swallowed a retort and waited.</p><p>The Flare didn't, though.</p><p>Thomas heard the beginnings of the Gone before he saw them. He heard the low groans on his left that gave way to growls and made his blood run cold, inhuman, far too familiar. Teresa skittered back, wide-eyed and clutching the syringe protectively. He forced himself to look at Newt and immediately wished he hadn't.</p><p>Ink-stained veins crowded every inch of his face. They crisscrossed and tangled within each other, raised unnaturally above his otherwise sallow skin. Dark blood trailed in thick lines from his mouth and down his neck, almost indistinguishable from the veins themselves, now, and glistening sickeningly in the firelight. He bore a raw, undeniable resemblance to the creatures in the tunnel and the warehouses and <em>no, no, no no no no no</em>-</p><p>Newt let out a hoarse scream that morphed into a snarl halfway out of his lips. And Thomas didn't think he'd ever heard a sound more hellish, partly because it came from a Crank, and partly because it came from <em>Newt</em>, and in a single, hour-long second, he decided.</p><p>One look at Teresa told her all she needed to know.</p><p>She yanked on Thomas's arm hard enough to make him wince, nails digging into his skin. His sleeve was quickly rolled up.</p><p>The Flare stirred again, and Newt screamed/snarled again, and his upper body pitched back and forth like an agitated child with their knees against their chest.</p><p>Teresa held the syringe over one of Thomas's veins for a second as if asking a question. A question which, in his opinion, didn't need much answering at this point. He nodded grimly.</p><p>Newt sprang forward.</p><p>Thomas whipped his head around in time for Newt to slam him onto the cement, pain shooting up his spine and bursting in his head like a firecracker. It was infinitely worse being this close to someone almost entirely Gone, and he could smell flesh on its way to rotting and see the darkness dripping from Newt's mouth, and Thomas wanted to throw up.</p><p>They struggled with each other as his adrenaline climbed higher and his back throbbed with pain.</p><p>"What are you doing?" Teresa yelled, rifling through her bag.</p><p>"What are <em>you</em> doing?" he yelled back, incredulous, before narrowly dodging a punch to the jaw.</p><p>Newt shrieked and doubled his efforts to wipe Thomas off the face of the planet.</p><p>She pushed the bag aside and looked around wildly as if she wasn't sure what to focus on. Thomas tried to shove Newt off of himself, but then they rolled back into the same position, and a strange, inconvenient sense of déjà vu overcame him.</p><p>"What are you-"</p><p>Suddenly, Teresa yanked Newt backward by the shoulders. He stumbled onto the ground, the energy sapped from his bones for the moment.</p><p>She picked up a roll of compression wrap in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other.</p><p>Thomas caught his breath. "What's- <em>what</em>?"</p><p>"Just hold him down!"</p><p>Another round of gunfire cracked through the streets.</p><p>"Tommy-"</p><p>Newt swayed from the concrete, disoriented. "Kill me." His voice was ragged with exhaustion.</p><p>Thomas shook his head slightly and moved closer. "I already told you, no."</p><p>"Tommy, please, I can't-"</p><p>"Just hold on, okay? Hold on for me. You're gonna be okay."</p><p>"I-" He cut himself off with another groan.</p><p>Teresa kneeled down to pin Newt's wrists behind his back and bound them together. She motioned with her head to the medical bag, lying on the sidewalk a few feet away. "Get the syringe. It's only a matter of time before he-"</p><p>"Teresa!"</p><p>Newt's leg kicked her aside, the roll of bandaging slipping from her grasp, and his barbaric screech pierced Thomas's ears. The Crank side of him didn't realize it used his injured leg, however, and the low whimper that followed was half pathetic, half feral.</p><p>
  <em> Kill me. </em>
</p><p>Thomas snatched the roll from the cement, along with the pair of scissors, and hastily sliced it into more long strips.</p><p>
  <em> I already told you, no. </em>
</p><p>Teresa reached into the bag again and recovered the syringe.</p><p>The bandaging around Newt's wrists had loosened with his straining. Thomas wound another one around them, tight enough to cut off his circulation, and ignored the pang in his chest at the glare he received.</p><p>"Make sure you get his legs," Teresa called breathlessly.</p><p>Thomas made sure to get his legs.</p><p>"We can hold him down, too," she continued, "during the procedure." Procedure. That word tugged at a horrible, buried memory.</p><p>He held out his right forearm to Teresa while keeping the left one pressed firmly against Newt's chest.</p><p>The needle hovered over his vein again for a second before Thomas felt the pinch. He focused on the bits of gravel biting into his shin through his pant leg and the flames burning bright across the street, reaching forty feet in the air and leaping higher, sometimes.</p><p>The pounding in his ears subsided a little. The sound of their heavy breathing and the faraway click of dozens of reloading rifles filled it instead.</p><p>Thomas's world would still fall apart, if only in the literal sense. He felt more sure of it than anything else, somehow.</p><p>The pressure in his arm released when Teresa finished the draw. Thomas swiped at the red drop of blood swelling from his needlepoint wound. And Newt was still seething under his elbow, chest rising and falling with his pants.</p><p>Teresa shifted over to him and grabbed him carefully by his tied wrists. He thrashed harder, letting out animalistic cries, but the bandaging was too tight. Thomas held his breath.</p><p>When the needle pierced Newt's skin, it made a faint hissing noise, not unlike air expelled from a plastic bag.</p><p>He stopped struggling and gasped, eyes blown wide, dipped in pitch black.</p><p>And-</p><p>His chest didn't rise again.</p><p>Thomas's heart dropped like a guillotine.</p><p>Newt's expression was frozen, focused on some indeterminate point in the smoke-polluted sky. His limbs went limp in the same way as the intermissions of his episodes. But it was different. It was different this time, and Thomas could feel it.</p><p>The overwhelming urge to both punch something and collapse into a ball crashed over him like a tsunami.</p><p>"Thomas-"</p><p>
  <em> Newt- </em>
</p><p>"Thomas, I'm sorry, I didn't-"</p><p>
  <em> Newt is- </em>
</p><p>"Thomas, can you hear-"</p><p>
  <em> I can't brea- </em>
</p><p>Teresa was gone, suddenly, and Thomas's vision tunneled, and his chest constricted.</p><p>
  <em> I can't- </em>
</p><p>"Thomas-"</p><p>
  <em> If they'd only- </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And he'd been- </em>
</p><p>"Thomas-"</p><p>
  <em> And, maybe, there was the slightest chance of- slightest chance- </em>
</p><p>
  <em> If there is even the slightest chance that we can save him- </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I can't breathe- </em>
</p><p>"Thomas, would you-"</p><p>He was frozen in place. He was frozen in place, but he was moving at the same time, somehow, closer to Newt's side, pressing two fingers to his throat and feeling his reality shatter when nothing responded.</p><p>"Thomas, your arm - it's bleeding."</p><p>He should've acknowledged her, but no sound came out.</p><p>"Here, let me at least- here."</p><p>Thomas kept his fingers on Newt's neck as Teresa wrapped his forearm with gauze. Because if he let them drop, it was letting go, and he didn't want-</p><p>Stupidly, he wondered if maybe-</p><p>Newt's pulse stuttered under his fingers.</p><p>Thomas inhaled so sharply he choked on ash.</p><p>"Is- he's breathing." Teresa's eyes were wide, flicking between Newt's body and her empty syringe. "What did you-"</p><p>"I don't know, I was just-"</p><p>"Thomas-"</p><p>Thomas's fingers began to tremble against Newt's pulse point. "I literally just-"</p><p>"Oh my God."</p><p>"<em>Tommy</em>-"</p><p>"Oh my <em>God</em>."</p><p>Black faded to deep, dark brown.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>AND OUR BABY IS REVIVED</p><p>i'm so so so fucking sorry it took me ages to update</p><p>i struggled pretty hard with this chapter just cause i wanted to make sure it had good pacing and the fight was believable</p><p>hopefully, i'll post the third chapter a bit sooner lol</p><p>love you all &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i hope you enjoyed reading! come scream at me on tumblr @potter-the-poltergeist :')</p></blockquote></div></div>
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